


Transformation

by SifaShep



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gilneas, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Worgen, worgen storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SifaShep/pseuds/SifaShep
Summary: My first WoW (World of Warcraft) fic, featuring my Worgen Priest Morroyo. He is married to Lethe Tavros, (original character,  a Worgen Warlock made by Deathista here on AO3). This story takes place in Gilneas during the Feral Worgen attacks/Forsaken Blight.Morroyo has a bad day: he gets bitten by a Worgen, his homeland is crumbling into the sea, and the Forsaken are at their doorstep. Even the gentlest of souls has a breaking point.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Transformation

_Gilneas City_  
  
He sat against the ruined shrine, eyes glued to the door across from him. How long had it been? Hours? Days? He didn’t know and honestly, he didn’t care. The howls echoed through the stone walls. It would be over soon, he hoped. Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids. He felt himself sink into a pool of warmth, but made himself sit up straighter. They had broken through once; they were going to do it again, and they would kill him.

He cradled his sore arm against himself. He tried to ease the pain, but he had no more power. Even the most powerful of Priests had a limited pool of mana. 

The howls grew louder. They were getting closer. He reached out with his good hand and his fingers brushed against his wooden staff. It would hardly hold up against a rabid Worgen, but it was all he had. Master Morroyo Baquiran, Priest of the Cathedral of Light in Gilneas, reduced to a cowering shadow in the dark chapel of his own home.

His thoughts wandered. Did Lethe make it out? His husband was resourceful, a powerful warlock in his own right. Morroyo hoped so. His brilliant, logical husband. Morroyo missed him so much. He tried to touch the bond they shared in their minds, but a cloud of exhaustion made his attempt clumsy.

At least Lethe was still alive. That gave him hope. Perhaps he was organizing a counterattack against the Worgen right now. That would be exactly what he would be doing. Morroyo felt a surge of pride for his husband.

A sharp crack echoed through the chapel. Loose dirt fell to the stone floor. The barricade in front of the entrance creaked and shifted. The wooden pews trembled and slowly slid away from the door. Morroyo struggled to his feet, using his staff as leverage. They were coming to finish him, but damned if he wasn’t going to face them on his feet.

_Lethe, I love you._ He tried to summon the Light, but something was wrong. There was some sort of blockage in his mind, one that threw the connection into deep Shadow. The panic almost cleared his mind of fatigue. _Has the Light abandoned me? Why? Why?_ His mind grasped at any glimmer but it was fading even as he tried to catch it.  
  
He had lost his power. _No...it cannot be. Not like this._ His hands seemed to shift, ripple, in his fading vision. It took all his remaining strength to concentrate on the task at hand.

The barricade crumbled, broken pieces of stone and furniture shattered, the pieces shoved aside. Wisps of power formed around Morroyo’s fingers, and the fire in his veins surged forward. Shadows, the Void, giving himself to the power. The poisonous chill overcame any sense of reason. All he could focus on was survival, if they attacked, he would rip them apart with his bare hands. A figure emerged from the ruined pile of rubble.

“Morroyo, _stop! It’s me!”_

Lethe’s voice pierced the fog in his mind. He pulled back on the bolt of power, but not nearly enough, and it streaked from his fingers. The shadow moved faster than he’d ever seen it. He saw the bolt hit, and for one terrified moment, thought it had struck Lethe. The sickening feeling exploded in his stomach, drove him to his knees and he screamed in despair.

The despair began as a Human cry and ended in the howl of a wolf.

He felt hands on his shoulders, arms enfolded and held him close. His mind was too wrapped up in anguish to register what was happening.

“I’m all right! _You didn’t hit me, I’m all right._ Genn, we’ve found him!”

Morroyo felt hands at his robes, at his injured arm. He struck out in pain and fear, reflexes taking over. A rough voice, not his own, snarled, "Don't touch me!"  
  
"You're hurt, we can help you, if you would let us." It was a familiar voice, gravelly, accented. Calm. The voice of a man who was used to being obeyed. "The healer must be healed."  
  
Morroyo shivered as the gentle hands examined the rip in his skin. The same voice held concern. “He’s been bitten. The madness has almost consumed his mind…”

Lethe's grip tightened on him. There was a trace of panic in his tone...but Lethe _never_ panicked. “I can feel it...he’s almost gone, almost feral, I can barely think...it’s all right, love, we’ve got you!”

“Carry him, Lethe. We’ll get him taken care of. Gray, cover us. Move quickly now.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” There was the ring of steel as daggers were drawn. Whatever was left of Morroyo’s mind identified the voices: Lethe, Genn Greymane, King of Gilneas. Graystrike Cerewhyn, rogue and a member of HIs Majesty’s Intelligence service. All friends.

He was safe.

Strong arms gathered him up in a protective embrace. He marveled at Lethe’s strength and didn’t question it. The sound of his husband’s heartbeat lulled him into a drowsy warmth.

“I have you, love. I’m not letting you go.”

He closed his eyes. Safe, finally. The gentle sway of movement calmed him and he slept.


End file.
